DX01: SINGULARITY 39932

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gigantic, curved mirrors are wrapping around me, like, reflecting distorted images of each other into infinity, and the air's heavy with the smell of burned circuit boards. A steady, ear-piercing whine is coming from... somewhere, and I can see my own reflection staring back at me with these sunken eyes, looking all beat to hell. Umm, it's freezing cold, and the sky above is this deep, inky black, no stars visible, but there's this massive, perfectly still tornado just... sitting there, not moving or anything, like it's made of glass. My vision's getting all fuzzy again...